Monthly Archives: July 2015



I came home from a business dinner last night and noticed our front lawn was in dire need of a cut.  I traded my dress pants for a pair of cut-offs shorts, donned my cowboy boots as to not get itchy grass cuttings on my feet and went to town with the weed wacker, pearl necklace and all.  R sat on the front porch drinking a beer.  It’s a shame we didn’t conclude the evening with a photo shoot.


R survived our annual family gathering at my mother’s cabin.  Just me, R and 55 of my closest relatives.  Everyone told me how much they liked him and then had a couple of beers and just told him directly.  Having your family like your new boyfriend is like winning the boyfriend lottery, I’m pretty sure.

The cabin was just as wonderful as it tends to be.  The weather was perfect, the water warm (by Minnesota standards) and the brats filled with wild rice, as the Emily, Minnesota butcher and God intended.  I’m fairly certain my mother wins the awards of all awards for churning out so many waffles and blueberry pancakes.

I water skied one morning and epically crashed – out of the ski, face first into the water with one of my favorite stud earrings finding its final resting place at the bottom of lake Ruth.  My muscles were so sore from the lap around the lake that I gave up after I fell and hauled myself into the boat with my shaking muscles.  I then proceeded to complain about my sore body for the next 48 hours because my mom loves the opportunity to coddle and provide comforting, sympathetic comments to her eldest child because she’s out of shape.  Seriously, guys, she loves it.


I hope everyone has a wonderful weekend.  R and I are going to the zoo and out for ramen noodles.  And then I’m going to strongly consider doing my homework.  Remember when I had a 4.0?  Yeah, me too.


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Some Things on Thursday


My friend Cara has a solo show in this year’s D.C. Fringe Festival and I suggest you snap up tickets immediately and mentally prepare for some vigorous clapping.

Cara’s sister Bree was my boss long ago when I first moved to D.C.  As the story goes, Bree and her boyfriend broke up and the two of us spent the next several months bouncing around D.C. together – typically with alcohol and tacos, sometimes with Cara.  Since then, I have been informally adopted into their sisterly tribe, complete with matching monogrammed beach towels to make it super official.

I’ve never once wished for a sister.  But I am glad I’ve got these two.  Especially since Bree makes the turkey for Thanksgiving and Cara bakes the pie.

The District of Cara runs through July at the Tree House Lounge on Florida Avenue.  Tickets are $17 plus the cost of a Fringe Festival button ($5 at the ticket office, $7 at the door).  I really hope I don’t have to wear the button.

More details here or on the D.C. Fringe Festival website.  The show starts Saturday.


I had the most marvelous time in Minnesota last week.  Such a wonderful time in fact that I bought tickets for R and I to go back next weekend for our annual family day.  I may have failed to mention exactly how many people show up for family day, but he says he’s excited.  And if he’s lying about that – what a smart boy.  I think my mom has more sisters than R has relatives, so this should be fun for everyone!  I told him – quoting the wise advice my cousin Mina gave to her now-husband at his first family day – that when he gets overwhelmed, he should grab a beer, grab a floatie and take a break.


  • I am getting my ass kicked at Words with Friends by numerous members of my family.  I don’t know why I’m surprised.
  • I’ve only got three weeks left of summer school.
  • I have to go to happy hour in Falls Church tonight.  That is WAY outside of the zone, as it is way way in the Virginia suburbs.  I told R that I would go, since you’re supposed to compromise in relationships and shit, but I was doing so under protest.  And that I would probably need snacks and bottled water, lest I get hungry or dehydrated during the 900 minute metro trip.
  • This is hilarious:

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I hated D.C. when I first moved here 6 1/2 years ago.  All of my favorite people were still living and drinking together in Chicago.  I wasn’t sure about my new job.  I knew a grand total of like 6 people on the Eastern seaboard either of non-drinking age or the age of my parents.  And while my mom and dad’s friend John has proved to be an excellent happy hour companion, it took what felt like mostly forever to adjust.  To find my grove.  And my people.  And most importantly, my footing.

But days like this – while long gone in the newscycle – days like this make me so happy to be here.  For during my time in D.C., I was on the National Mall during President Obama’s first inauguration, heard countless Members of Congress speak and walked through the White House gardens.  I was a guest at wedding with a cabinet secretary as the officiant and worried that I gave Helen Thomas strep throat*.  And two weeks ago, I stood in front of the Supreme Court with hundreds of others, as the interns ran and word spread that gay marriage was now the law of our land.  I hugged my friend and chanted with strangers, “USA!  USA!”

*My goodness, has my grasp of proper grammar and punctuation improved since then.

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